


RAIN

by MariahJade2



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action, Angst and Humor, Character Study, Gen, Jedi Training, Mud Hole, Survival Training, Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 05:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariahJade2/pseuds/MariahJade2
Summary: A day in the life of Luke Skywalker on Dagobah.  Luke gets wet and muddy and thinks about stuff during a jungle trek.





	RAIN

**Author's Note:**

> Another story I rescued from my hard drive after many years and finished. This was an experiment for me. Some introspection and irritation thrown in.

_Rain._

 

This relentless downpour, this deluge of despair, condenses and drizzles on my soul like some obscure Hutt torture.  The trees around me sag under the weight of it. The leaves are small conduits for tiny rivers to flow over my shoulders as I pass by them,  walking through the jungle swamp.  What is a child of the desert doing here on this planet of swamps and mysteries?  I am hard pressed to remember at this moment.  I am supposed to be here learning the ways of the Jedi from my master, but the unrelenting drops pull any attempt I make at finding my center into a swollen river of futility.   The irony of my childhood does not escape me.

 

I was blindfolded and brought here by Yoda and he must have suppressed my internal sense of time and direction as he directed me.    I feel as though it took no time at all to arrive,  yet the color of  the  light, such as it is, seems out of sync with the time in my head.    For today’s lesson,  I was to find my way back to the hut without using the Force as a guide.  When I removed the coverings, I expected I would be returning with Master Yoda on my back, but he had vanished into the murky swamp without leaving a trace of his passing.  I failed my first lesson of the day.   Fruitlessly, I searched in a wide circle for sometime, looking for a sign showing which path he had taken home.  Only later did it occur to me that even if I had found some broken twig, or a toed footprint, my master could just have easily left it there on purpose to thwart my attempt to cheat.  There would be no taking the easy way out on this day.  _What am I supposed to be learning here?_   Navigating through life without the Force is something I’ve had plenty of experience in.  Shouldn’t I be learning how to use this power instead?   Sighing, I bring my thoughts back to the moment at hand. 

 

_I’m lost._

 

The tree in front of me has a familiar gnarled twist in the middle that looks a bit like Solo’s lopsided grin.  It stands there mocking me, for I recall noticing the resemblance to my absent friend an hour ago.  I’m going in circles, and how disgustingly appropriate that is.  It is a metaphor for all that I have accomplished up till now.  I feel like I’m orbiting something intangible and just beyond my ability to reach.  Every time I make a small gain in my training, a large failure is sure to follow, and so I must start over again.  I step past the tree and into a large swath of mud that sucks at my feet and unbalances my body.  If only that branch had been a little closer to my hand, I might not have fallen into this muck, which I am currently scrambling to get out of.

 

“Slimy mud hole!”  Sorry, Yoda, but truer words were never spoken.

 

The temptation to reach out for my master and admit defeat is momentarily seductive, but instead, I pull myself up and force my legs to keep moving.  Thunder cracks over my head and logic dictates that I have to choose another path.  If Han should come to mock me for a third time I would surely turn to the dark side. I turn left, moving under a stand of wide leafed palmed trees.   Rain has its own special way of flowing in the jungle.  The large canopy overhead keeps much, though not all, of the individual drops from reaching me, but instead it collects and flows off the leaves until you are under a torrent of little waterfalls.  I briefly consider removing my clothes for they have become wet, heavy and cloying and are only dragging at my ability to walk.  This idea I reject quickly, reminding myself of the small yet vital items I have with me in my pack and pockets; anti-venom, bacta patches, rations.

 

I trudge on, tucking my chin each time the heavy flow off the leaves splashes over my face.  At least it’s washing the dirt off.  Something falls to the ground off to my right distracting me, and I trip once again when my foot catches on a root, obviously put there to ensure that I will remain covered in mud. 

 

“Arrrrgh.”

 

My foot moved, but my boot is still stuck in the swampy mud and now my sock has that nice, gooey texture of clay.  I long for home suddenly, that bright sunny place where everything is dry and swept clean by the winds.  What my uncle wouldn’t have given for just a small fraction of the water that now covers me.  Balancing my weight against a fallen log, I reach down and pull out the offending boot from the mud and slide my foot back inside.  Oh, what a lovely sensation this is going to be.  Step. Squish. Step. Squish.

 

 I notice the gloom, which is passing for light, is starting to darken. The fading of the light has turned the varied shades of the forest into darker, deeper, moss greens and olive blacks.  I’ll have to stop soon and shelter for the night.  Lightning flashes again, and I duck as the sound of the strike lands too close for comfort.  I’m uneasy with storms.  They are the stuff of off-world tales on my home world and here in the jungle, large groping hands come to life, reaching for me, though I know it is only a tree.  The slight bump against my leg as I walk reminds me that at least I have my light saber, if not my dignity.  There are many unseen dangers lurking in the swamp, and I am sobered by the fact that my light saber cannot protect me from all of them. It cannot protect me from poisonous biting insects, or dangerous plants, or from my own stupidity.   Without touching the Force, I am blind to the approach of things that lurk in the night.

 

No. That’s not quite true.  I have my instincts and my five senses, as I always have. 

 

My survival training on Tattoine prepared me for the harshness of the desert, but so much of what I learned there does not translate to this environment, save that survival depends upon your knowledge of the terrain, the climate, your ability to cope with these elements, and your will to survive.

 

At the moment, my will is still with me, though with each passing hour I find myself looking over my shoulder at the darkness creeping up behind me, urging me to give in to temptation, even as the darkness of night is creeping across the jungle floor.  When I look at the task before me, it seems insurmountable.  I am not speaking of this lesson in navigation that my body is currently undergoing.  Nature surely has provided me with plenty of materials to build a shelter for the night.  But what can shelter me from death at Vader’s hand or worse, from the corruption of my soul?   Can this insignificant body ever hope to control this power that Ben introduced me to?  He showed me a swollen, mighty river and left behind a farm boy from the desert to tame it.  Look at me.   I’m not a Jedi.  I’m not a great warrior.  Hell. I’m barely even a man.  What was I thinking coming here?   I’ve let myself believe the delusions of two hermits, who are pinning the fate of the galaxy on _me_ _?  Are you nuts, Skywalker?  You can’t even find your way back to your bed._  I begin cutting down vines and branches with more force than I need to, venting my mounting frustration in great displays of  blue light.  It feels good and I don’t even care that my anger is building.

 

Rolling thunder echoes around me as I finish up my make shift shelter.  The momentary satisfaction I felt before is gone.   My body shivers from exhaustion and from exposure to the elements, yet the truth of the matter is, I fear the sound.  I hear in my minds eye, aerial bombardment coming closer to my position. I had been naïve when I joined the Rebellion as a pilot, thinking I would be safe from ground action.  The realities of rebellion, of hit and run attacks, and the need for men to have multiple skills, kept me on land based operations almost as much as I was needed in space.  Memories of comrades killed by such sounds come back to me.  Thoughts of my adoptive parents last moments, return.  I imagine the explosion that took them and I wonder if they heard it coming.  Did they know that I loved them?  Is regret of the dark side?

 

Darkness is all around me now.  I have but one small light.  One tiny spot of illumination to keep back the night.  This is what I am, one little lamp.  Not nearly enough to light up the forest, or bring hope to the galaxy.   The rain hitting the leaves I used as a canopy has picked up, and I take stock of my shelter to distract myself. A shelter must be large enough to protect you. It must also be small enough to contain your body heat. Cold is the enemy.  It can cause fatigue and weakness, changing your outlook and will to live.  I wonder if that is how the Sith attack your soul.  Does the harsh, unforgiving coldness of their minds seep into you till you whither and succumb?  Can one build a shelter against it?   I shiver at the thought, yet something in me, some stubbornness that my uncle would have thrown back at me as a flaw passed down to me from my father, rebels at the idea of failure.  I look at my small light and it glows warm and yellow like the color of the twin suns of Tattoine.  I imagine for a moment that I am strong like the suns and my light will blaze up and beat back the darkness of Vader and Palpatine.   My fathers saber dances in my imaginary hands and my enemies tremble and fall before the mighty young Jedi.  My brief delusion of grandeur disappears in the flash and crack of lightning nearby, making me startle and return to reality.  Sleep must come even to heroes, I say to myself disparagingly, and I turn off my lamp, struggling to find comfort in my make shift pile of water repellant fronds currently substituting for a bed.   I hope I don’t dream.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Dawn should come with sunlight,” I mumble to myself upon awaking with a start.  Yet my eyes see only darkness around me still.  “What time is it?” I say out loud to myself, and instinctively hold up my wrist chrono to look, only to stop midway.  Does it matter?    A splash of water that has made its way through my shelter roof, lands on my cheek making my body tense with the sudden cold sensation, leaving me feeling uneasy.  Something has awakened me too soon.  What did I hear in my sleep to rouse this tired body?  I reach for my lamp only to pause with my thumb over the switch.  If something is drawing near to me, some predator, the light will only draw it closer.  I make my self still, calm, drawing upon my lessons in breathing without drawing myself into the teeming life force of the planet.  The forest is deathly quiet.  Even in the darkness the sounds never stop.  Nocturnal creatures move and insects hum, branches fall, yet now all is silent, watching, even as I wait.  This feeling of danger grows stronger, and I am reminded of a time when I was lost in the desert as a child, huddled inside a derelict half hulk of a transport that was partially buried in sand.  The sandpeople were out there, coming closer to my hiding place, and I had nowhere to run.  My heart is pounding now as it did then, but I am no longer a child, able to make myself small and invisible under a broken sheet of metal. Dominance is the law of the jungle.  Here I will have to make myself large.   I imagine danger creeping closer; sharp claws will tear at my flesh and seek to rend the life from me.  I remember the haunting cry of the sandpeople as they passed by me, and I know that should I hear such a sound now, death will come swiftly. 

 

A wet jungle is soft, spongy and yielding.  It doesn’t snap or crack when something moves through it. My ears strain to hear some hint, some sound to divine what I might be facing.  Time is passing slowly in the darkness. I feel stretched out, like some elasticized band, pulled to the max and ready to give.  My body tenses suddenly, as I hear something raspy hiss nearby.  The sound is approaching my fragile shelter and I know that soon I must choose to either run from the prospect of death or face it.  My stalker moves closer and the sound of something hitting a log startles me for a brief second.  The predator must be trying to frighten its prey into moving. _Prey._ That’s me.  At least now I know what I’m facing.  It is a Swamp Devil; a distant land-based cousin to the Dagobah Dragonsnake that once tried to eat Artoo.  My pulse picks up at the image of those talons and razor fine teeth clamped on to my skin, and I notice my finger hovering over the activator switch of my light saber.  The creature will either pass me by or if it has sensed my presence, attack, and I must be prepared.

 

 

I hear hissing again, nearer to me now, but I do not attack.  Not yet.  Perhaps it will merely pass as my scent is now one with the mud and the swamp.   Nature needs predators or the world would be overrun with all the small things that breed and consume in large quantities.   I make a half grin and grimly hope to not be this predator’s food.   I can hear its breath right next to me, and the sound of a tail thrashing in the leaves and sticks.  Every muscle in my body is taut and ready and my heart beats loudly as the blood moves through my ears.  My finger hovers above my sabers activation switch twitching to activate it.   Part of me loves the sound of it.  I get a chill every time I hit the switch as it brings back that first moment when Ben handed it to me, giving me a piece  of my Father.  It gives me a very un-Jedi like spark of pleasure.    Yoda would call it thrill seeking and surely hit me with his gimmer stick in disapproval.

 

The Dragonsnake moves by and I begin to relax as I hear it moving away from my spot.  I hold still for what I think is a safe amount of time before moving my position.  Mistake!

It turns and charges back at me and I’ve lost my advantage and have to roll out of the shelter to the side to gain distance while I press the switch on my lightsaber.   Blue light hums lighting up the dark and I’ve only seconds to swing.  I strike what I think will be a killing blow  and only injure the Dragonsnake,  further enraging it and it charges me, whipping it’s tale at my legs and its mouth snarls full of teeth and venom.  My next swing is true but my lack of patience has caused it to suffer and die when it could have continued on in its natural life.  I imagine my master slowly shaking his head in disappointment.   Still I’m tired and relieved to have this latest threat gone.  Thunder sounds around me again as I lay back down in my shelter,  willing my heart to slow down.  The storm is starting to move away and I close my eyes and hear the beginnings of swamp birds starting their morning calls to each other now that the dragonsnake is gone.   The sun will rise soon, yet I fall back asleep to the music of the forest and the soft patter of rain on my makeshift roof.

 

I awake to the feeling of something crawling across my nose and a bright light beaming through the leaves into my eyes.  My hand reaches up to swat whatever creepy thing is meandering across my face.  _Ugh!   There are way too many bugs on this planet._    Looking down I see it was a spider, and I had been carelessly swatting at something that could have bitten me with a toxic venom.   The feeling of relief that washes through me is tempered with a quick need to check for more on my body.   More relief comes as I find none and I am able to relax and rise from my shelter into the sunlight.  At least it wasn’t a desert scorpi which could kill you in minutes.

 

Tiny sun beams cut through the trees like lasers and leave bright trails across my vision down to the ground illuminating mushrooms that have grown overnight.  The slight breeze pushes leaves back and forth making the sunlight flicker and move in and out from bright light to shade over and over again.   The constant shifting is a bit dizzying and takes time for my eyes to adjust.   I see tiny particles floating in the air when the light shines, including tiny gnats and biting itchy insects.   Another day in Dagobah.     My mind returns to the mushrooms.  I know these are not edible but perhaps there are others nearby that could be, my stomach growls and I lean down to my pack and pull out a ration bar.   I briefly wonder how old it is.  I disparagingly hope it’s not from the clone wars, allowing myself a bit of humor.  It is chewy but not stale and it’s gone quickly.  There is water clinging to the undergrowth that splashes on my feet as I walk around searching for mushrooms I can bring back to the camp for later use.  I find some black forest ones and collect those in a small bandana I have in my pocket.  A bit further I collect some fan shaped earthy rooms and a few yellow Chaac ones. _Not too bad._

 

I return to the shelter area to pack up so I can begin heading back to Yoda’s hut.  While walking I am able to get a better sense of direction with the help of the sun and the moss and my best guess as to which way to go.  Sun never lasts long on Dagobah.   I wrap up the mushrooms in the bandana and place them into my pack.  The sounds of koliada birds singing to each other adds to the hypnotic quality of the morning as I start my trek again.  The air smells sweet and fresh, cleaned, but I can still feel the moisture begin evaporating into the atmosphere as the heat rises incrementally, wanting to fill up the air with a dense fog again.  I pause to drink water and examine the terrain ahead of me.  I see something that peaks my interest and move forward.  It’s further away than I think but I can see a clearer area up ahead and I keep moving towards it.  Mist is starting to form around the edges with the rising humidity.  The ground is spongy and my feet sink as I walk, leaving behind ephemeral footprints in the peat like soil.   Up ahead I can see the clearing now.  Two large trees felled by some other storm lay on the ground leaving a bright spot in the otherwise shady green jungle.  Moss has already covered them partially and I move into the center of the light basking in the warm sunlight.  I raise my face skyward and close my eyes drinking in the feel of the warm photons drying my damp hair and my clothes.   I allow myself to think of Tattoine for a brief moment, of sitting on the ridge edge of my sunken homestead in mindless thought.  How simple that life was, how boring, how I long for that sometimes yet part of me knows I would never go back.  

 

I open my eyes again and I spy some color on the edges of the open clearing, just peeking out from under tiny leaves.  I walk over and crouch down to see what it is.  Berries.  Pink and white cluster in small bunches just under the leaves.  I think I may have seen my master picking at these.  I feel a momentary thrill and begin gathering them up in the palm of my hand.  I toss a few in my mouth and savor the refreshing sweet minty taste. 

 

_So much better than a ration bar._

 

When I’ve gathered as much as I can, I place them in a zippered pouch to take back with me.  This makes me realize how hungry I still am and I wonder if there are any of those edible roots growing near here that Yoda used in his stew.  I will have to keep an eye out.  I check my chrono and decide that I had better keep moving.

 

I’ve had the nagging feeling that I’m starting to recognize the general terrain I am seeing  if not the exact area I am walking in, and this gives me some confidence that I’m heading in the right direction.  An hour has passed since I collected the berries and I begin to hear the sound of a stream bubbling and splashing along somewhere nearby. It sounds full and swollen from the rain.  I try to make my way towards it to re-fill my water canister.   Water.  This world is full of water.  I’m reminded again of how precious it all would be on my home world and muse that I may never get rid of the feeling of awe in the presence of so much,  and I feel once again like an outer rim desert farm boy.  Well that’s one way to keep myself humble.

 

The sound of water crashing against rocks is louder now and I’m starting to see little streamlets that have overflowed and are seeking a path of least resistance.   The water must be higher than I thought.   As I move closer I begin to see that my path forward is blocked by the abundance of overflow,  and the rushing of the rain swollen stream, and I’m forced to stop and think about how best to cross.   A large rock near a few others is nearby,  and I briefly wonder how it got there as it seems to not belong to the local geography.  Perhaps from some other flood.  Well, it will serve me well as a place to sit.

 

Sitting down my mind drifts to many things while I take a few moments to rest.  The boulder makes me recall my rock lifting lesson and to think about my master and what he is expecting of me.   Should I have been back by now?  Have I already failed?  What was the lesson he wanted me to learn?  I know he will test me when I arrive,  yet I am at a loss to come up with the answer.   I wonder how long I’ll be here on this planet, and I feel myself letting anxiety seep in as each thought passes through my mind.  Do they need me back at the Alliance? Thoughts of my vision return.  Are my friends safe?  I promised Yoda I’d stay,  but should I go to them?  Am I strong enough to help?

 

_Sigh.  You won’t get anywhere doing nothing Luke Skywalker._

Perhaps that’s it.  Perhaps I’m doing what he accused me of the first day I met him. 

 

“Never his mind on where he was, what he was doing”.   Is that the lesson?  

 

I examine my surroundings and I know what I must do.  I stand and pull out my light saber.  It hums as the blue blade emerges and I walk over to some trees and begin cutting larger pieces that I can use to make a way to cross the water.  Two should be enough and perhaps one for a balance pole.  It will be harder to not use the force to make a log bridge but nothing I can’t handle after hauling vaporator pieces around the farm.

 

I make my way past a few streamlets to the main flow and it’s big,  but I think I’ll make it.  I pause and look back at the rocks and return with a few to toss into the water.  Gauging how deep it is.  Full, but not impassable.  I gather a few larger ones and try to strategically throw them into places to help support my logs.  Once that’s done,  I begin hauling the tree branches to the water.  They are heavier than I expect,  but my training so far has paid off, and I feel stronger than I had been.   It takes two attempts to position the first log.  Now I must place another parallel to this one.   Not for the first time, I wish I could use the force, but that is not my assignment, and my shields stay firmly in place.   The other log gives me more trouble as it keeps rolling off one of the rocks.  The rock is too tall.  Now I have to push it out of the way and try again.  Success.  The rock is moved and my bridge is complete.   I go back and pick up my back pack and my walking stick and return to cross.   The logs bend under my weight as I being crossing,  one foot on each log with my stick as a third balance.  The left one is not as wide as the right log and it dips slightly into the water.  I’ll have to be careful I don’t slip. 

 

Occasional waves splash against my feet half way across and just as I am about to reach the other side I slip slightly into the water soaking my foot fully _.   Shavit!_

At least I didn’t fall in, but then how does one ever truly dry off here?   I scramble towards drier land and look back at the water.  Something looks off.  The color has changed into a muddier color and I stare at it for a few moments wondering where the soil is coming from.   I hear something, some noise in the distance and I look across to the boulder I was sitting on and something clicks. 

 

_Run!_

 

Dropping my makeshift walking stick, I run until I look back and see a wall of water heading in my direction.  Flash flood!  I have a moment of panic over where to go and the only direction I can move is up.   There is a large sturdy Tulgey tree ahead, but I don’t think I can reach the first branch without using the force.   I’ve no time to think about it and I reach out and levitate myself up so I can begin climbing higher.  Surely Yoda would not expect me to drown for a lesson.   The momentary relief that floods me when I feel the force fill my body and mind,  is like drinking from a cool waterfall after wandering parched in the desert.  This thought is barely formed before I cannot think at all, only react.  A surging wall of muddy water and debris has come crashing through this little gully area and turned it into an ever rising river.  I climb higher to find a stable perch grateful my pack is still with me.

 

Broken limbs and rocks crash into the trees around me including mine, making it shake and shudder with the impacts but it holds.  Not so one of the smaller trees next to me, and it falls over against mine, lodging itself in between two branches.  The water is still rising and I am nervous.  I could save myself with the force but I feel like this is another test of my patience, my discipline, and I remain sitting where I am to wait out the flood.  

 

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here.  I haven’t looked at my chrono.  There is something about the raw power of nature that makes you take it in and forget time.  I notice the water is receding and I try to guess how much longer it will be before I can climb down.   The swamp gelsum vines hanging off my tree that had floated on top of the deluge is now my measure of the water depth.  Where before it was mostly in the water, it is now hanging straighter and straighter.   I think I’ll be able to move soon.   There are no pyknigis vines on my tree like those I climbed up during my master’s strength training exercises, but I should be able to get down climbing on the fallen tree.

 

It occurs to me that I had not once worried about this flash flood harming Master Yoda.  He is a master I tell myself.  He can take care of himself.  Though it’s not likely the water was heading in the direction of our camp. In fact if the water was going that way then this means our camp is probably…that way.  I point my finger in the direction I believe will lead me back quickly. 

 

I notice a small puddle of stranded fish as the water has receded now.  They would make a good meal, something to add to my mushrooms and berries for the little kitchen back at the hut.  I make my way down out of the tree and instantly sink into a thick pile of mud as my feet land on the ground.   The sucking sound is not pleasant,  but the feel of it is even worse.   Like a thick, brown, pasty pile of fresh bantha dung, only wet enough to seep into my boots over the top.  I’m sure I’ve contorted the muscles in my face into something that looks appropriately disgusted.  I use my fingers to scoop some out and wipe them on some nearby leaves.

 

_Fish Skywalker, think about the fish._

I make my way over to the doomed aquatic creatures, on the way grabbing a branch which I fashion into a spear head with my knife.   I pause to thank the force for the gift of a future meal and quickly accumulate five.   A good thing I have a few spare pouches in my pack to put them in.   I start to take stock of the light and wonder if I can make it back before the night comes.  The fog is back and getting thicker, making it harder to see.

 

I move out willing my feet to walk faster in my chosen direction.  The way back takes me though a thicker part of the swamp and it feels darker here.  Bat like creatures move amongst the trees making harsh sounds.  I walk on for some time hacking away with my light saber to clear overgrowth in my way.  I begin to feel off, cold, and I try to shut down the feeling.   I must be getting nearer to the dark side cave which seems to be able to cut through the shields I’ve erected for this exercise.  I don’t want to think about that place.  I don’t want to remember my own face under that awful mask.  I can’t fail like that.  Vader seemed so real and all I had wanted to do was destroy him.  I’m still angry but I think I understand now.   I must always be in control of myself, of my feelings, my fears.   I must be quiet, aware, alive, and alert, with or without the force.   I must only think of my next breath, my next step, and the next until my goal is reached.   Never tense but ready, not thinking but not drifting, I must be flexible not stiff; I must be prepared for whatever will come _._

_Can I?_

Something pokes me in the shin hard. 

“Yoda!”

“Ohhh.  Learned something you have mmmm?  Food you have brought too, yes, yes” 

I must have been silent too long because he whacks me with his stick again.  “Ouch!”

 I admit I am a bit shocked that he is here and I’m this close.

“Yes Master.”   He laughs at me and starts to walk back towards the camp area.

“Come, come much to talk about, still much to learn but first we eat.”

I watch him walk off and sigh as I glance at my muddy feet before I go follow.

 

_Slimy mud hole._


End file.
